Just You and Me
by Edgar Night
Summary: Ben/Juliet oneshot. What fluffy things may have happened after Ben's last line at the "dinner party" in The Other Woman.


Disclaimer: I do not own LOST or The Moody Blues, much to my dismay. Please don't sue me! -hides-

* * *

"His assignment will be over soon. I promise you," Ben said, smiling.

Ben's stomach twinged a little at that, which was unusual. He never felt guilty about lying, and that wasn't even a lie. But misleading Juliet made him uncomfortable, especially considering how badly the deception would hurt her.

Juliet was beautiful that night. Her sandy hair flowed to her shoulders in soft contours and her warm, coy smirk lit up her blue-grey eyes… stunning. Ben couldn't stop smiling at her. Even when she had brought up Goodwin—how he _hated_ Goodwin—he couldn't help but smile. She was so lovely, so clever. He really couldn't blame Goodwin for falling for her too, he supposed. Not blaming, however, didn't equate not detesting.

"Is that so?" Juliet said, quietly and doubtfully.

"I promise," Ben repeated.

Juliet's smile faded and her eyebrows lifted in dubious curves.

Ben coughed slightly and thought of a way to change the subject. "Do you like the ham?" he asked.

"It's delicious," Juliet answered, her smile returning.

A grin forming on his face, Ben took a bite of the ham. It was warm and savory, but he couldn't pay attention to the flavor at all. His mind worked, worked, worked, as it always did, for something clever to say. Usually he had something planned, but with Juliet? Never.

"Old family recipe," he said. A lie, not clever at all.

There was that wretched twinge again. It didn't help how much more like Ben's mother Juliet looked as the lie formed on his tongue. She always resembled Emily deeply, that was part of what had drawn Ben to her at first, before he had truly known her mind. Yet as he made the claim, he saw her so much in Juliet's face that his smile faltered for a moment and his voice gave the barest hint of a crack as he added:

"I'm so glad you like it."

The merry trill of a violin danced gracefully into the music Ben had slipped into the stereo, a background to the dinner. Juliet swayed in her chair, lost in the melody. Her eyes closed and one hand swung back and forth as though she were conducting the piece. Her mouth moved as if she were attempting to sing along with the voiceless song of the violin.

Maybe the wine had some say in his actions, or maybe he was just giddy at the sight of Juliet so happy—she never seemed to be full of such bliss when she was around him—but Ben didn't think much of either as he pushed his chair back and walked to her. He put a hand on her shoulder, felt her tense up as his fingers brushed her skin. She looked up at him, eyes full of bafflement. Ben extended his other hand to her.

"May I?" he asked with a smile.

The tempo increased. The melody grew sweeter with its speed. Several long, difficult heartbeats passed. As Ben grew embarrassed and ready to lower his hand, Juliet grasped it, a smile lighting up her eyes once more. Her fingers were warm and smooth, her grip full of life. She stood and looked him in the eye.

"Ben Linus, are you asking me to dance?" she asked.

"I am indeed," Ben replied. He imagined his hand was shaking considerably.

Juliet raised her eyebrows. "And if I say no?"

"I would be disappointed," Ben answered with a matter-of-fact shrug, as though his night would not have become perfect with her acceptance and he wouldn't have felt utterly deflated at her refusal._ And then I'd ask again some other time,_ he added silently.

Juliet nodded her understanding. She locked her fingers in Ben's. "Then let's dance," she said softly.

Ben could have sworn he heard her mumble something about him being the last person she wanted to disappoint—the meanings behind that were myriad—but he didn't have an opportunity to think on that. Juliet pulled him into the kitchen, where there was more space, and slid her hand over his shoulder. Ben beamed. His face felt unused to it—he doubted that he had smiled so broadly since Alex was a child.

The song smoothly changed. Juliet blinked.

"Nights in White Satin?" she said, confusion etched between her eyebrows. "

Ben shrugged again. "It has good melody and rhythm," he said simply.

_No, you fool, that's not the reason it's playing, and you know it,_ Ben thought, irritated.

"True." Juliet closed her eyes to absorb the music. "Mm."

Ben slid his hand around Juliet's waist and they began a waltz. One step right, one forward, one left, one back. Right, forward, left, back. When the song reached the chorus, Ben gave Juliet a twirl. A laugh lit up her face like the sun on the first day of spring. Ben's ears and mind filled with her laughter. His smile would never go away now. Right, forward, left, back. Right, forward, left, back. Right, forward, twirl, left, back. Once or twice, the small of Ben's back brushed against the countertop because they had traveled too close to the edge of the kitchen, each time reminding him of the confrontation he and Juliet had had, when she had rightly called him a liar. Right, forward, left, back.

Juliet was all grace. Ben wondered absently where she had learned to waltz. She was fantastic. Not that he was biased.

Like many things he did, Ben himself had learned as a precaution. Some situations demanded the baton, most demanded wits and manipulation… some situations demanded dance. The latter were rare, but one could never be too careful. Plus, taking up a hobby was good for the health.

Right, forward, left, back. Ben closed his eyes and absorbed the sensations of the moment. Right, forward, left, back. He could sense each crease in Juliet's blouse underneath his fingers, could feel her exhale on his cheek when his step was longer than hers and they came close to collision, and smell the wine on her breath mingling with her vanilla perfume. Her palm had begun to perspire—or was it his?—but her grip on his hand was strong as ever. Right, forward, twirl, left, back.

But just like that, the song ended. Ben nearly shot the stereo an angry look before he remembered that it was inanimate. Instead, he looked Juliet in the eye and thought of something to say.

Juliet stared back, expectant, if the curvature of her eyebrows was any indication.

"Juliet," Ben said hesitantly, wishing the normal firmness would come back to him. His voice sounded so weak. "I…"

_I love you._

"I…"

_I need you._

"Ah…"

_Ignore my mouth; it's not functioning properly. Can't you see it in my eyes, Juliet? I love you._

"I, erm…"

_Please. _

Juliet frowned. "You what?"

Ben's brow furrowed. Why wouldn't the words come out? Was he so very unused to showing emotion that his mouth simply refused to spill out how much he cared for her? How every little thing he had done since her arrival was a way of showing his affection? How even what would happen to that wretch Goodwin was a way of ensuring that Juliet would be his forever? His mouth opened and closed, on the brink of pouring out his soul to her. Her hand slid off his shoulder and she unlocked her fingers from his.

"Juliet." Ben regained stern command of his voice. Now to get the words out. "I…"

"Yes?"

Ben didn't know why the words wouldn't come. Just those three little words, monosyllabic to the highest degree. Nothing near the monologues he usually gave, and those came out so easily. He thought through what he wanted to say for a moment, then realized that if he couldn't get out _I love you_, he wasn't going to be able to pour out an impromptu Shakespearean sonnet or a grand Bergerac-esque speech either.

"Never mind," he said, withering on the inside. He gave Juliet one of his classic cryptic smirks. "It's not important," he lied.

How did lies come out so much more smoothly than the truth?

Juliet nodded and strode to the door. "Well. I guess I'll be going, then." She seemed disappointed, or maybe Ben just wished she was.

"Juliet," Ben called as she reached the threshold.

"Yes?"

Ben collected himself and said, "I hope you enjoyed yourself."

Juliet smiled. "Yes, Ben. I did." She walked out and closed the door behind her.

Several moments passed, during which Ben berated himself for not telling Juliet all he wanted to tell. Then the door opened again. Juliet's head slipped through the opening, the rest of her body following soon after.

"Ben," Juliet said, unsure. "Maybe we could do this again sometime? You know, dinner."

"A dinner party?" Ben said sarcastically.

Juliet paused, and then smiled back. "No. Just you and me."


End file.
